


Ennui

by SimpleSisypheanTask



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Also I was tired of all the milk and mayo if you catch my drift, And the Sam story I've been working on is giving me grief, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Malcolm needs more love, Short & Sweet, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 11:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12580872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleSisypheanTask/pseuds/SimpleSisypheanTask
Summary: "Sorry, sorry! I'll, uh, pick th-this up later!"Her spoon made a startling clack as it fell to the floor. "What in the world...?" Her cereal would go soggy long before she got an answer to her question."I'm sorry! I -shit- I've got to go! Sorry!" the man yelled one last time before swinging open her door and leaving as quickly as he appeared. The window, where he'd entered off the fire escape, was still wide open, flurries of snow already making their way in.The face of her sudden visitor was burned into her memory, reappearing throughout her day. He looked familiar. Curiosity got the best of her, and soon she was on Google.Alias Investigations?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a treat for you guys on this lovely Halloween!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __

Monday mornings were suppose to be boring for Shayla Welch - and the rest of the general population, too. 

Everybody hated Monday, right? Too much left from the week before fell on Monday's shoulders, and nobody wanted to deal with out that - hence the reason it was left in the first place. The good stuff isn't _always_ saved for last, but the dull stuff was _always_ saved for Monday morning. 

Workers, the unemployed, parents, children, the elderly and even that beloved orange tabby cat from the comics hated Monday, regardless of the fact that it had no responsibilities, hated Mondays. 

Shayla didn't have any responsibilities that Monday either, though she was no tabby cat. In fact, as a Web designer and art blogger, she made her own hours up. Each day was spent either creating a new site layout, surfing the net to get ideas or pouring her heart and soul into commissioned art pieces. 

No significant other or pets of any sort meant she had all her time to herself. When she wasn't working, that time was usually spent doing the three S's: shopping, socializing and sleeping. 

It was absolutely lonely and boring, but that was safe life for her that she felt she needed. It was satisfying...

Until the window of her living room flew open, a body tumbling inside. 

Shayla's hands pulled her cereal bowl closer to her chest as if it were a protective shield. What she wouldn't give for a 9:00 to 5:00 life right then... 

She watched in baffled shock and growing horror as a strange man knocked over the table she had a drying canvas and some of her art supplies on. All the materials clattered to the floor. 

"Aw, man!" Shay and the intruder chorused. 

When he looked at her, the first thing she noticed was the blood dripping from his hairline to his chin. His dark, tired eyes looked apologetic as he pushed himself to his feet, accidentally kicking the canvas that was turned face down even further across the floor. The pair winced together at the sight. "Sorry!" he apologized at once.

Was it possible to have your jaw drop past your knees? It had to be, or she was breaking some obscure record.

He wore a yellow windbreaker, making him obnoxiously bright in her living room decorated in earth tones. Thick brown curls stood proud and tall on his head, pairing well with the beard and mustache combo he had that highlighted his features. The man was handsome, even under that blood and sweat covering his caramel complexion. 

How could he have been sweating in just a windbreaker? It was the end of January. And who gave him that wound? Was he planning on giving _her_ a wound, too?

Shayla's hands were shaking so hard she needed to rest her bowl in her lap. She kept her spoon in hand for safety purposes, of course. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'll, uh, pick th-this up later!" His voice wasn't particularly deep, nor was it high, and she couldn't pick up any local accent from him either. Even his intentions through his worrisome expression were hard to read. Shay didn't know if it was all just a ploy. 

Her spoon made a startling clack as it fell to the floor. The man was on the move again, keeping the coffee table between them rather than getting closer. Shay couldn't recall hearing of a considerate murderer who kept to his own personal space in the news. "What in the world...?" Her cereal would go soggy long before she got an answer to her question. 

"I'm sorry! I - _shit_ \- I've got to go! Sorry!" the man yelled one last time before swinging open her door and leaving as quickly as he appeared. The window, where he'd entered off the fire escape, was still wide open, flurries already making their way in. They melted just as fast as the man left. 

Shay stared at her door that had politely closed behind her intruder, unable to tear her eyes away long after he'd gone. _What in God's name was that all about?_

~*~*~*~*~*~

Malcolm and Jessica knew that the amount of people wanting their services would have been large, but this was _ridiculous_. They had an honest-to-goodness waiting list! 

Jessica would roll her eyes every time the phone rang and Malcolm scrambled to open up the calendar app on his phone and answer the landline in a professional manner. He was barely on the payroll, but it made him feel like the social worker he wanted to be here. He had a purpose, no matter how small it felt in the overall grand scheme of things. 

As Jess took a sip from her flask and listened in, Malcolm would assure whoever was calling that they would see what they could do with the info given. If Jessica thought the case wasn't a big deal, she'd snatch the phone out of his hand, cuss out the caller and threaten bodily harm if they wasted AI's time again, then hang up. 

Malcolm would then wait for the next call, hoping like hell Jess would lighten up. If he felt it was worth the effort, he'd berate her for being so mean. 

While Malcolm wanted to help all the people he could in the world, Jessica filtered out the serious cases from the ones she called, "bullshit, time-wasting crap I can do with my eyes closed." They just couldn't take on every problem. It wasn't humanly (or superhumanly) possible, and it certainly wasn't healthy.

So, when a lady called on a Thursday about suspicious activity in the apartment across from hers and Jessica narrowed her eyes in her telltale way, Malcolm leaned away from her reaching hand enough to hear, "...and there were two kids who went missing not too long ago in that building. I think... I'm just worried, ya know? Worried these things are connected, and the cops won't hear me out. They're refusing to listen to some old bat, I guess."

Both of them looked at each other. 

"Tell me more..." Malcolm started, looking for the legal pad they always made case notes on. Jessica shoved it over to him, placing her laptop on the corner of their shared desk. 

Fast forward to Monday, and Malcolm was running over rooftops to escape three men involved in a human trafficking scheme. He had no idea what part of town he was in, and was quickly growing tired of slipping and sliding around the snowy rooftops. His phone was smashed three roof-jumps back after slipping from his frozen hands and down many stories to the concrete, so he couldn't call Jess. 

The only thing that gave him hope was Jessica not receiving his text to know he was secure, and knowing she would be searching street cams for him. Until she got an estimate of his location, he would have to keep going, keep moving. 

That was why he found himself ducking into someone's apartment, making a mess and apologizing profusely as he continued to run, he didn't fully stop running until Trish cut him off with her truck. She called out to him, throwing the passenger door open and speeding away once he hopped in. 

Jess was bleeding from a gunshot wound to the shoulder in the back, but looked satisfied as she told him they, "got the filthy bastards, saved the kids and deserve a week off for their efforts."

He agreed, massaging the cramps from his legs. 

Malcolm was half-asleep when he remembered a vague promise he made to the stunned woman whose apartment he briefly broke into. His lips twitched into a half-smile as he remembered disturbing her breakfast. 

Cereal Lady had been pretty in a way he'd always liked, with her dark brown skin, void of makeup and showing just how tired and human she was, and equally dark eyes with bags under them that looked like they'd seen the city at its worst and still cared about it. Malcolm appreciated women like that. He appreciated people like that. They tended to be the ones who he could relate to most. He knew what it meant to be weary yet hopeful. It was a constant for him. 

He remembered her hair, too, styled long locs that reached her waist, spilling over her shoulders and drawing his eyes to the cute roundness of her chubby cheeks. Even though he'd only seen her mouth parted in horror at his invasion of her home, Malcolm would bet she had the most genuine smile. A smile that lit up her whole face, and encouraged others to smile back. 

Or not. He could just be pathetically hopeful, and placing too much stock in strangers as he was prone to do. 

Still, he thought Cereal Lady was undeniably adorable, and probably hated him for fucking up what must've been some art for her Instagram followers or something. Malcolm didn't know much about art outside of the times his mother encouraged him to try and partake in her hobby of painting in his youth. 

He yawned and burrowed deeper under his covers, falling asleep to the memory of messy creations that managed to make it onto the walls of his childhood home. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The face of her sudden visitor was burned into her memory, reappearing throughout her day. It was distracting in the worst way. 

While Shay cleaned out her bowl, she could picture his curls so vividly that she practically felt them under her fingers. Taking inventory of her fridge, she couldn't help but think of how he looked like the type of guy who would like a steaming cup of tea over coffee. It was hard to find a guy like that in busy, exhausted New York. 

Vacuuming the rug in her bedroom, she remembered the art piece that he'd knocked over and ruined. She damn near broke her neck as she flew into the living room, seeing the mess she'd somehow ignored up to then. Picking up the canvas, grimacing. It wasn't completely destroyed, but it was going to be tough restoring it. 

Shay cleaned up her work station, silently cussing out the mystery guy for being a jackass who totally didn't come back to pick it all up for her. Once finished, she immediately started on seeing how she could salvage the piece. 

Her mind, unruly as always, kept drifting back to him. 

The jackass looked familiar. Really, really familiar. Not movie star famous, but certainly as recognizable as, say, the guy who rang up her art supplies or ran one of the local bodegas. Curiosity got the best of her, and soon she was on Google. 

It took a while of typing vague things like, "brown-haired man," and, "famous indie film stars of the year," and even, "hot intruder guys in New York," to jog her memory. She even managed to dig up a couple of ancient Bed Intruder remixes before her Eureka moment came. To be sure, she typed in the name of the place she'd seen advertised on neon flyers around the city. 

Sure enough, a crappy website came up. Two separate selfies of the duo running the show appeared under the nearly illegible blurb, too dark against the black background, about the business. 

_Alias Investigations?_

Did someone hire that guy to spy on her, or did he make a bad habit of breaking and entering?

Shayla cracked her knuckles, not to look cool in her lonely apartment, but because it was a bad habit of hers. Even with how it irked some people, it still wasn't as bad as spontaneous breaking and entering, and no one could tell her otherwise. 

"Okay, so some hot guy tumbled into my apartment, and he works for a private investigation biz, and he owes me an apology for almost messing up my work..." she mumbled to herself, shaking her head at the absurdity of her day. 

Mondays were supposed to be boring.


	2. Chapter 2

_"I'm sorry, what?"_

Shayla smiled even though her client couldn't see her over the phone. "No, I'm sorry. I got a little carried away with my explanation, didn't I?" She began doodling in a notebook, drawing what she picture her client looked like. It wasn't hard to draw the star of Trish Talk. 

_"Only a bit,"_ the woman responded, a laugh in her voice. _"Thank you so much for taking this on, Ms. Welch. I know you're one of the best Web designers out there, and you've got a ton of people wanting your artwork, but my friend - "_

"Hey, I get it. You wanted your friend to have the best, even if they didn't know they needed it." Personally, Shay couldn't relate, but was super supportive of those relationships. There were too few in the world. 

_Ugh, enough of that. Don't get emotional during a professional call._

Shay cleared her throat, blinking quickly a few times. "Anyway, get back to me later today on whether you want me to do my thing for the site or if you've got any special ideas, and I'll get right on it."

_"Gotcha. Bye."_

"Bye." 

~*~*~*~*~*~

_"Okay, I'll give you full artistic liberty, but I've got only one request,"_ Trish said over the phone. 

Shay gave up trying to keep the phone securely pressed between her shoulder and ear as she ate her Chinese takeout. She put it on speakerphone and set it on her coffee table, turning the volume down on her TV so she could hear properly. "Hit me."

_"No purple. It's not... Just don't put any purple anywhere on the site. Like, not even the darkest shade of purple you can find, or the lightest. In fact, don't even put pink on there. Pink will piss her off..."_

Shay nodded though she couldn't be seen. On screen, Issa Rae was rapping into a bathroom mirror, and Shay was eager to hear what was being said. She switched on the captions and hit rewind. "Cool. No purple, no pink. Gotcha, gotcha... Anything else?"

_"Nope. I trust you. I've seen the designs you've made before, and I know you've got good ideas, so I won't stifle your creativity, or anything. Thanks again for doing this for Jess. I really appreciate it."_

Shay nodded, only half listening. Her mind was focused on how to make her skin glow as much as Issa's. She set her chopsticks down and cracked her knuckles, thinking off how expensive the face creams would be. "No problem. You paid for my service. I'll make sure to deliver." 

Trish laughed, thanking Shay again before ending the call. Shay continued to watch Insecure, jealous of everyone's amazing skin and trendy clothing. 

_Why did God curse me with my dad's oily skin and my mother's casual fashion sense?_

~*~*~*~*~*~

Five cups of coffee and several obsessive checks for bugs in the span of a week, Shay found herself with a fat paycheck and a thank you text from Trish. 

The site looked much better now, like less of some fifth grader's Web page they made for computer class and more like a that of professional business. It had a black and navy blue theme, with a silver accent here and there. The text, although in a casual script style, was easily readable and wouldn't make viewers squint. Navigation around the sight was simple and straightforward, yet had enough pizzazz to look modernized. 

After having to put up contact info, credentials, a FAQ page and more, Shay felt she knew more about Jessica Jones and her super cute partner in fighting crime, Malcolm Ducasse. 

She was officially their biggest fan and made a mental note to keep an eye out for any mentions of them in the paper. Was this how people in Hell's Kitchen felt about their Devil guy? She knew Harlem felt supportive of Luke Cage like this because she used to live there before some jackass went around posing as the bulletproof man and made a hell of a mess. 

Well, at least none of the heroes she had remote relation to didn't play dress up.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Oh, that _is_ way easier..." Jessica commented, scrolling through the new Alias Investigations site. "I don't have to go through ten minutes of clicking to figure out where the hell our number is, and it doesn't look like _total shit._ "

Trish knew that was as close as a, "Thank you!" as she'd get. She smiled. "You're welcome. Shayla Welch did a great job, huh? I'm sure you'll get more business now, you guys, since you have professional looking page."

Malcolm wandered out of the kitchen with a half empty bottle of water, dressed in running gear - sweatband, tube socks, embarrassingly short shorts over thermal underwear and all. "It looks amazing, Trish! Thanks." She smiled wider, appreciating Malcolm's acknowledgement of her gift to them. "Much better than what I tried to put together. They didn't teach me a lot of super cool Web design back in school. Or any coding and hacking into the Matrix. That would've been useful for this job..." 

Jessica snorted. "Goddamn education system... Never teaching us the important shit, but always making sure we know the Pythagorean Theorem," she lamented.

Trish rolled her eyes. 

"I'll be back in about an hour," Malcolm announced to the pair, finishing his water before heading for the door. "Try not to get into another devastating shootout or brutal fight, okay?" He gave them both a stern look.

"I'll keep her out of trouble."

Jessica glared at the two over her laptop. "You can't promise that, Trish."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Shay hated postal service, but it was easier to ship work to buyers in different places this way. Still, it didn't make trips to the post office any better when she had many canvasses to protect from fast-moving New Yorkers. She ducked and dodged, looking like a blur in her bright green trench coat. 

Hopping over a puddle of dirty slush at the curb felt more like jumping over a hungry shark or a trail of molten lava. Shay giggled, trying to keep a positive attitude. Just because she was cold, carrying a lot and hungry, didn't mean she was going to succumb to her inner bitch. 

Just as she passed by an apartment building, only a block away from the post office now, a person stepped out and recognized her. A hand on Shay's arm halted her before she could get too far. She turned slowly. She had a mean right hook, and was ready for anything New York was about to throw at her.

"Cereal Lady!"

Anything except that. 

"Huh?" Shay choked out, looking at the man who was regarding her with friendly brown eyes. 

Malcolm flashed her a regretful smile, a hand coming up to scratch at his beard. "Hey, I'm sorry about falling through your window like that." 

Her eyes widened. She knew him!

"I had to, um, run from some guys, and your window was cracked - which is crazy to do in _winter, _by the way. Saved my life, though. I'm just really sorry I interrupted you and your cereal."__

____

Shay took a moment to stop gawking at the literal angel that was just a few feet away from her. God, he looked so good in that _ridiculous_ running gear, it wasn't even funny. She found herself wishing she had decided to wear her plain black beanie instead of her neon pink bobble hat with what had to be the world's largest pom-pom on it. "Um... Yeah. It's cool." 

____

_You went to college, and that's the best you could come up with?_

____

"Where are you headed? Post office?" Malcolm asked, stepping a little closer, inspecting the large shipping boxes she was carrying. He had no idea how Shay was singing hymns in her head as she caught the fresh scent of whatever soap and hair products he used to maintain his lovely mane. "Can I help you out with this?"

____

Like she was going to say no... "Uh, sure? Yeah, thanks!" She let him take a couple canvasses from her, relieved by the loss of the extra weight. "Careful, careful! That's my livelihood you're holding."

____

He nodded, a solemn look crossing his face. "Did I ruin that other one from when I - "

____

"Oh, thankfully, no." They began to walk together, close enough to brush arms. "It was, _pfft,_ it was fine." _Yeah, after spending hours adjusting and inspecting it, it was fine, but he doesn't need to know that._ "Don't worry about it. Haha."

____

"I'm so sorry," he apologized again, seeing how she avoided his eyes as she lied for his benefit. It was sweet of her, but he knew there was no way he hadn't cost her either time and/or money. "I should've been watching where I was going."

____

"Nah, it's cool. It's fine." They sidestepped a man in all black walking his large pit bull before continuing on. "I fixed it, and got paid in full. The owner of that painting didn't see anything wrong with it, and I wouldn't have sold it if it looked off. Trust me, it's okay. It's fine."

____

They ducked into the nearly barren post office, where Shay quickly set about getting her pieces shipped off to the correct people. As she took her items from Malcolm, he noticed her name on the return address. 

____

_Shayla Welch._

____

He felt himself freeze, knowing he knew that name from somewhere. Where did he - ? Web designer! Cereal Lady was a digital artist, too! 

____

Malcolm stood back, watching her handle her business with a look of interest in his eye. He remembered his previous thoughts of how attractive she was during his brief run-in with her, but standing here, she looked even better. 

____

She was taller than she'd looked on the large grey sofa in her living room, but not tall enough to even reach his shoulder in her thigh high black boots with a couple inches on the heels. As she opened up her coat to get reprieve from the heat of the post office, Malcolm saw she was wearing a pretty maroon dress underneath. Her long hair was woven into an intricate bun atop her head, a couple locs left down to frame her face. 

____

She returned to him with a shy grin. She cracked her knuckles, looking away for a moment before settling her gaze back on him. "Thanks for helping me, and for apologizing and explaining yourself. I appreciate that. Not a lot of people would've cared about something like that by now - _Ha!_ As if loads of people tumble through windows in bright ass jackets - "

____

"Do you want to go grab something to eat with me?" Malcolm blurted before he could consider the possibility of rejection and chicken out. "I'd, uh... I'd just really like to take you out. My treat, of course." He took a shaky breath in. "Feel free to say no if you're busy."

____

"Oh! Uh, sure? _Sure!_ " she said in a near whisper, eyes going wide at being blindsided like this. Malcolm felt his tense shoulders sag in relief. "Oh! Um, by the way, my name is Shayla. I go by Shay, though." She held out her hand still covered by mittens that were the same pink as her hat. 

____

"Malcolm," he shook her hand, gaining confidence. "I like what you did with the site, Shay."

____

"I like what you do for the city, Malcolm." They turned for the exit, close enough to brush arms again. They merged with the crowd outside, Malcolm leading the way. Shay looked up at him, squinting slightly at the glare of the sun on snow. "So, is it early enough to still call our meal breakfast, or are we doing brunch?"

____

"How about we call it...a date?" 

____

Shay smiled. "Wow, handsome _and_ smooth. How do you fight people off of you?" She wrapped her arms around one of his as if some unknown person was going to cart him away at that very moment. "Let me guess, Thor's hammer?"

____

"Oh, definitely," Malcolm laughed, maneuvering his arms so that it was wrapped around her. "What gave away my godly power? Was it the 'fro? It was the 'fro."

____


	3. Chapter 3

"That's so... _awesome!" Shay exclaimed as she watched Colleen and Misty training together. She'd been focused on her yoga poses before noticing just how swiftly and easily the duo were moving._

__

This Kung Fu stuff was as cool as the Krav Maga she did with Karen and Trish. It was nice knowing so many ass-kicking women. It's what Beyoncé and Missy Elliott made songs about. 

__

"You gonna jump in with them, or what?" Claire asked, stopping her round with a punching bag to towel off sweat from her skin. "I'd like to see what the journalist and talk show host taught you."

__

Claire, on Danny Rand's payroll as the official nurse of the Defenders, had more free time now that she didn't need to pick up as many shifts at local clinics to make ends meet. And with KnightWing Restorations up and running, Misty didn't need to worry about what hanging out with the eclectic group of heroes would mean for her job security. And, well, Colleen would do what Colleen wanted to do. 

__

"Oh," Shay shrugged, "I don't think you want none of this. Might do permanent damage." She sniffed primly, avoiding Claire's look of amusement. 

__

"Now, that right there is a good joke," Misty laughed, blocking a swing from Colleen's sword with her golden arm. "Tell another!"

__

Shay rolled her eyes, jumping onto her feet, the blue sparring mat beneath her socks giving only slightly to the pressure of her weight. Much firmer than the ones at the nearby gym. She stepped over to Claire. "Very funny, Mist. Watch, when we finally go to lunch, which we should've done _an hour ago,_ you'll be wishing you hadn't been mean to me when you'll be trying to steal my dessert from me."

__

"I can't help it! I'm snarky. And you pick the best desserts, while I always seem to find the worst on the menu." 

__

"Maybe, just maybe, you should order the same thing as her," Colleen suggested with a smile. She sheathed her sword. "Might solve that problem, Detective."

__

"Watch it, or this partnership will be over like," she snapped her bionic fingers, the sound much like two tiny metal pots had bumped together, " _that._ "

__

Claire nearly choked on her water as she chuckled. "Ooh, them's fighting words! Look out, everyone, Misty Knight is on the loose!" She and Shay raised their arms in the air and pretended to flee from the gym, Misty jokingly pursuing them.

__

Colleen rolled her eyes as she followed behind them all, locking the door to the home she shared with Danny. It was nice having friends like them, even when they got so goofy they acted more like children than adults. 

__

~*~*~*~*~*~

__

Jessica knocked back another shot. "Okay... Never have I ever lied to the police," she said. 

__

All of the ladies around the table glared at her as they down their drinks. Trish signaled for more shots to be brought to them. Shay tried making Trish put her hand down, her movements far less graceful than they'd been just two hours ago. 

__

"You can't hang?" Misty asked Shay, quirking an eyebrow. "I thought you were cool."

__

"I am cool!" Shay told her, bobbing her head to the beat of a dance song to show just how cool she was. "But, I don't want to worry about alcohol poisoning." _Because alcohol poisoning would make me lose cool points around you heroes._

__

"Keep drinking, and you _won't_ have to worry about it," Claire told her, sipping on some water. 

__

Colleen smirked, surveying the crowd. She didn't seem completely comfortable in the crowd, but she was relaxed enough by company she was with to not push for them to ditch yet. "Don't think about that too hard about what Claire just said, and you won't have to worry about it."

__

Shay shrugged just as a waitress came around with another tray of shots and asked for a selfie with them. 

__

"I'll just move..." Shay offered, standing up. 

__

The waitress smiled shyly, flicking her brown hair back from her face. "Actually, I was hoping you would get in the picture, too. On a couple forums, I heard there was a new woman who worked as a..." her voice lowered, " _hacker_ for The Defenders and KnightWing Restorations." 

__

Shay's eyes widened. Who the fuck was leaking info like that? A quick run through of who could know such sensitive information made her mentally go, _"Danny, you gossiping bitch!"_

__

Still, Shay found herself ending up in the picture anyway as the waitress spun around, phone in hand and snapped the photos before anyone could agree to it. She scampered off, leaving the ladies a tad dazed. 

__

It was strange having a fan - and people talking about her on forums. She would have to check in on what was being said later. Shay hadn't caught buzz of it at all until now. 

__

"Back to drinking until we can't see," Jessica demanded, frowning. "I want to forget that that happened." 

__

~*~*~*~*~*~

__

"This game was a mistake," Shay hiccuped. Still, she found herself blurting out, "Never have I ever regret a drinking game!"

__

Once again, there were glares before the sound of glasses slamming down onto the table filled Shay's ears. The game went on for an hour, with pauses so they could rush onto the dance floor and get down to their favorite jams. Trish was a surprisingly good dance partner in Shay's opinion.

__

As the night began to wind down, the all settled back down around their table, chatting. As the designated drivers, Colleen and Karen started trying to wrangle to drunk group's things so they'd be able to leave. Like a pair of mothers with sloppy children, they eventually gave up for the moment, trying to calm themselves before they blew up. 

__

Shay giggled, dancing in her seat to the sound of a familiar song. Before she knew it, she was belting out the lyrics. Quickly, she was joined by the others. 

__

_"Acting on your best behavior, turn your back on Mother Nature,"_ Shay let out a belch, laughing again. _"Everybody wants to rule the world!"_

__

She loved this song! This was the best song! Malcolm had to hear this song!

__

Misty looked over at Shay, wondering if the younger woman knew just how wide her smile stretched across her face as she dialed Malcolm's number. That girl was head over heels for him, and it was disgustingly cute. 

__

She looked away, wondering if one day she'd ever find love with someone who would get how important what she did was to her. _Maybe..._

__

~*~*~*~*~*~

__

Malcolm smiled as he listened to Shay drunkenly sing to him. She had no concept of pitch, but it was cute to hear her try. And after the night he had, hearing her voice was like a gift from the universe. 

__

He looked in the medicine cabinet for the aspirin. He shook out a couple tablets for himself and swallowed them dry. Closing the cabinet, he was faced with the sight of his sweaty face with a large bruise covering the left side of his jaw. 

__

_"Oh, man, I love you, Mal!"_ Shay shouted on the phone, giggling. She was the happiest drunk he'd ever met. The exact opposite of him. _"I love you and this song!"_

__

In her drunken state, Shay didn't even realize she had confessed her love for Malcolm for the first time. Malcolm, stone cold sober, did.

__

" _Mwen renmen ou, tou, cheri,_ " Malcolm told her in a low voice, unable to bring himself to speak any louder in his quiet apartment. 

__

He was afraid to speak his love in a language she knew, afraid that if he admitted it, she'd wake up the next day, unaware of how she flipped his world upside-down and leaving him holding a broken heart. 

__

He hated how weak he felt when faced with what seemed like her boundless courage in their relationship. She was always the one to initiate intimate touches. She didn't run from him when he told her everything, from Kilgrave to how he still craved the drugs that made everything stop bothering him. She was his rock he held onto when he didn't know what to do with himself. 

__

What if sharing just how deeply he felt for her put too much of a burden on her? What if it made her leave? 

__

Clearing the lump in his throat, Malcolm pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. "Be safe, okay? When you get home, I'll buzz you up." She would never be able to manage getting herself coordinated enough to get her key in the door. 

__

_"Woo!"_ She started singing, _"I'm gonna see my baby, I'm gonna see my baby!"_ over and over. 

__

Malcolm smiled. He knew she liked coming over to his apartment. She called it, "Malcolm-ified," once, and the way she said it with a blissful smile on her face made him first realize how high she thought of him. "See you soon, Shay."

__

_"Bye, babe! ...Karen, can we get some quesadillas before you drop me off?"_ The line disconnected, and Malcolm decided now would be the best time to take a quick shower and put on something that he wouldn't mind getting bits of quesadilla on. 

__

Drunk Shay liked to share with people, but was too eager to notice the messes she made in the process. 

__

~*~*~*~*~*~

__

Shay rolled over, pressing her face into Malcolm's chest to block out the rays of sunlight that managed to get past his curtains. "Turn the sun off, Malcolm. It's brighter than the shine off Luke's head..."

__

He was quiet. Not a laugh, not even a snort. 

__

Slowly, to prevent a wave of nausea, Shay looked up at him. He looked troubled, staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. There were dark circles under his eyes from a night of no sleep. 

__

Shay looked at the ceiling from the corner of her eye, silently cussing it out for whatever it did to offend him. 

__

"You... You okay?" 

__

Malcolm closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them. "Last night...you said something."

__

"Was it mean?" Shay felt her skin crawl at the thought. She didn't know herself to be a rude drunk, and no one ever claimed she was, but shit happens. "If I was mean, I'm so sorry! I - "

__

"You love me?" He looked at her then, face void of emotion. She couldn't glean how he felt, so she expected the worst. The last boyfriend she had, the last man she loved, should've been someone she'd expected the worst from. Stupidly, she had been hopeful. 

__

With a pounding heart, Shay considered lying. She was drunk. It had to be too soon to admit she loved him, right? They'd only been dating a few months. It would scare him off if she admitted it. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't. 

__

So, Shay remained silent. Lying to Malcolm was harder than one would think. 

__

He sat up, causing her to sit up too. She tried pulling away from him, but her encircled her with his arms, his gaze growing more intense by the second. She felt far too hungover for this. Hell, this wouldn't be pleasant to deal with if she were perfectly fine. 

__

"Do you love me?" he asked again, his tone so gentle Shay was reminded of just why she loved him. She didn't have to worry about being hopeful with him. He had just as much hope in his heart as her. If he didn't want something, he was clear about it. She respected his bravery and ability to put himself out there like that. 

__

She loved it. She loved him. "Y-Yes."

__

"I love you, too."

__

Suddenly, her hangover didn't seem as harrowing in the light of this news. In fact, she felt as if she could face just about anything while equipped with the knowledge that Malcolm Ducasse loved her.

__


	4. Chapter 4

The Defenders didn't meet up immediately after Elektra was taken out. Things were too raw, to think about back then. Plus, it was hard for them all to get the time to see each other. They were busy people, after all. 

But, when they did find themselves together, no mention of what happened came up. 

Matt would be suited up on a rooftop, listening for trouble, and Jessica would drop in to tell him about a case she was working on, silently asking him for his help without actually asking for help. An insult or seven were thrown in about his costume so he wouldn't think she was going soft or that she actually missed him after thinking he died. 

Luke and Danny kept in contact with each other regularly. Colleen and Claire scheduled weekly dinners, and their attendance was mandatory. It didn't take long for the two to start meeting up with each other on their own, an idea to make a hero for hire business hatching between them. 

Misty and Colleen took a page out of Jessica's book, forming a private investigation service. Misty's new bionic arm came in handy when her guns and Colleen's sword didn't. Sometimes, they teamed up with Luke and Danny, and lots of things got broken those days. Mostly, it was a villain's bones. 

Jessica, Luke and Danny were introduced to Josie's one night when they noticed Matt was going down a dark, bloody path. They gathered around at the bar, Danny opening a tab for them, and began drinking and giving Matt the chance to spill in a safe space, free of judgement. 

One shot for each quickly began several. Several might have been too many. The Defenders were banned from entering the establishment together again somewhere after they began to lose count of their drinks, when Jessica thought it would be okay to hop behind the bar counter and start helping herself to, "some better shit that doesn't taste like piss." 

After that, the team started meeting at least once a month for Chinese and drinks with their respective friends and family, courtesy of the very rich Danny again. It was easy for everybody to grow closer, exchange numbers and share their skills when needed afterwards. 

For once, things were stable for the vigilantes. That lasted just a few months, which was not very surprising to anyone. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

" _Goddammit,_ Red! Get your head outta your ass, and start droppin' some bodies!" Frank Castle, loaded with two rifles that were blasting off so loud in the room that Matt could hardly hear him. 

Shay screamed bloody murder as bullets flew through the wall beside her. _Oh, God! I don't want to die!_

Shit went south so fast.

When Matt dropped by her apartment with word that Jessica and Malcolm were spying for a case, Shay figured it would be fun to hang out with her second favorite lawyer (Foggy was everyone's favorite). Kindly, he offered to fill Malcolm's place for an art museum trip because Matt loved to fuck with sighted people, and who would turn down that kind of fun? 

If Matt hadn't noted that there was a suspicious smell of narcotics in one of the new exhibits, and the pair hadn't gotten too curious for their own good, they'd be getting dinner at some greasy spoon in their neighborhood. But, they did. 

Shay, slipping back into the museum with Matt dressed in his costume - _"You don't leave friends with sensitive noses around mountains of coke, Matt!"_ \- disabled the security cams while feeling his judgemental... _ears_...listening to her every keystroke. The duo tiptoed their way to the lower level, and witnessed kilos being hidden in the frames of sold pieces from an Albanian artist's gallery.

Matt just had to step out of the shadows and threaten the gun-toting, pissed off mobsters. All he told Shay, in that demanding way of his, was, "Get back to the security room. I'll come get you when it's safe," sounding angry for letting her talk him into going with him. 

Shay didn't protest, knowing her limits. She gathered the long skirt of her yellow dress in her hands and booked it as quickly and quietly as she could. 

Halfway back to the security room, a dark figure blocked the hall. In the dimmed lighting, the skull painted on his Kevlar vest and the unconscious guard behind him looked like something out of a horror movie. 

Shay paused, her heart thumping so fast that her chest hurt. _God, no. Why, why, why?!_

"You with Red?" he asked, voice gravelly like he ate nails for breakfast. Shay noticed the rifle strapped to his back. She was, without a doubt, close to having a heart attack now. "Or you with the Albanians?"

_Do I fucking look Albanian to you?_

"I...am with myself," Shay answered before taking a quick left. She barely got ten feet away before being spun around. His face was littered haphazardly with bruises and cuts. 

"Yeah, you must be with Red," the man muttered after looking in her eyes. His eyes were so dark that Shay could make out her own face in them. She looked terrified. "Why'd he bring a civilian?"

"I just turned off the cams, man!" Shay confessed. "I swear I don't know _anything!_ " She tried to yank herself away, but his grip was firm. Holding her hands up in surrender, Shay continued to struggle. "Let me go! Please, man! Let go!"

Something cool and heavy was pressed into one of her outward facing palms. Instinct made her fingers curl loosely around it. She looked down to see a small handgun. _No, no, no, no, no!_

"Take this. Avoid anybody lookin' like they've got an attitude, shoot only when you need to, and get somewhere safe. Red's comin' to get ya, right?" 

Shay nodded dumbly, finally recognizing him through the haze of fear. The Punisher. _Oh, shit!_ She loved his work! "Dude, you're my hero..."

"Uh... J-Just get goin', ma'am," he grunted, sounding...embarrassed?

"Seriously, keep up the good work!" Shay took off back in the direction of the security room, her skirt bunched up in one hand and the gun in her other. She tried to remember all she ended up learning back when she did work on a gun safety website. "Thank you!"

When Matt found Shay sitting in an office chair, her shaky right hand pointing a gun at the door, he sighed heavily. "You met Frank, huh?"

"Yeah, he - "

"GOTTA GET MOVIN'! MORE HOSTILES COMIN'!" Frank yelled, yanking Matt out of the doorway so he could address Shay. "C'mon, ma'am, let's go. You live close by? Yeah? Good. Gotta get ya home, outta this mess." Side-eyeing Matt, Frank said through clenched teeth, "Good job, Red. Really smart of ya to get a civilian into somethin' like this. _Genius._ "

The frown on Matt's face told Frank a story about just where he could go and how to get there. 

Shay tried to hand back the gun to Frank, but he shook his head. "You hold it properly, and you ain't shot at no one who ain't needed to be shot. Keep it." He whirled on Matt again, clearly not done with chastising him. "As for _you!_ Irresponsible bastard, you could've gotten this woman hurt! The _hell_ were you thinkin'?" 

Matt didn't respond, too busy using his impressive hearing to explain himself. "Let's go!" He quickly led them through the exhibits, instructing them to stop whenever some goon appeared. 

They managed to get to an exit just as a spray of bullets tore through the room. They ducked behind a giant Greek statue against a wall. When the bullet ceased, Frank and Matt jumped into action, their styles both brutal and fast, yet obviously different if you looked closely. 

Matt was there to end crime. Frank was there to end crime _permanently._

Shay just wanted the night to end. She crawled away from the fray, praying she didn't have her hands get cut up from shards of glass littering the floor, or get shot in the ass. She needed her hands to earn money, and Malcolm liked her ass. 

And that was how they ended up here.

" _Goddammit,_ Red! Get your head outta your ass, and start droppin' some bodies!" Frank Castle, loaded with two rifles that were blasting off so loud in the shady room that Matt could hardly hear him. 

Shay screamed bloody murder as bullets flew through the wall beside her. She stared at the holes, her heart in her throat. _Oh, God! I don't want to die!_

After some time of shooting and throwing hits, enough bodies dropped for the trio to get loose and go, but they needed to find somewhere to hide out while they were being looked for. It was silently agreed upon that Shay's place was that somewhere. 

Matt endured Frank tearing him apart verbally the rest of the way to Shay's apartment. Catholic guilt and responsibilities that came with friendship kept him quiet. Frank, however, didn't know that the two were close enough that The Devil of Hell's Kitchen had offered her pro bono work whenever she needed it as thanks for the art pieces she decorated Nelson & Murdock with. So, Frank tore him a new one, upset that the, "Nice, young girl is scarred for life by seein' too much shit she didn't need to see."

She wasn't scarred for life, not yet, but it was funny to hear someone say a black girl from New York was experiencing gun violence and exposure to drug dealing for the first time. Honestly, she used to live in Harlem when Cottonmouth was running things. While she hadn't had guns pulled on her, she had witnessed Cottonmouth's goons harass and threaten people with them more than once. 

When they finally got to their destination, they found Luke and Danny had also chosen there to lay low after their case involving a sudden influx of drugs to the area. Coincidence? Unlikely. 

Luke was watching the news while Danny ate her Fruity Pebbles out of the box in the kitchen. "Hey," Luke greeted, eyeing Frank warily for a moment. "We'll be out of here, Shay, as soon as Danny's rested his fist and his...chi. We'll try not to make a mess." 

Danny nodded, placing the box back where he found it. He shot an apologetic look Shay's way. "Didn't know you'd be back so soon. Thought you, uh, went over Malcolm's for the night. Sorry..."

"It's fine," she responded, as she always did when things weren't fine. _Didn't know my apartment was the designated hiding spot._ It made sense, considering how her house was the only one other than Trish's that was far enough from where The Defenders had their HQ, and whereas Trish regularly had over co-workers, Shay worked alone. It was safe here. Regardless, it didn't make her want people in her space. 

While Shay texted Claire about how to dig a bullet out of someone's arm after finding out Matt was hiding a wound, Frank closed the window Shay had automatically cracked upon entering. He gave her an unimpressed look, silently scolding her with his eyes, before checking out the rest of the place, securing the area. 

Shay got the distinct feeling that Frank was the type who took responsibility for all the innocent lives around him, and right now, he felt her security, as the only non-hero, was his responsibility. While sweet, it also made her wonder if this was a trait he acquired after losing his family, or before, in war. Either answer felt too miserable to mull over for long. 

"You should keep all your windows locked, and always know who you're lettin' in your home," Frank told her when he was done. He glared over at Danny, who was meditating in the corner of the living room, a painting someone commissioned of their derpy looking pug leaning on the wall beside him, before looking back at her. 

Shay was 99.99% sure that painting had been on the table by the window, on the other side of the room. 

"Maybe pick different friends." He looked at Luke, who was known by all of New York by now, and Matt, who he only knew as Daredevil. "You've got some strange friends, ma'am," Frank muttered, turning back to her with a new light in his gaze. Like he was trying to figure out what was up with her. 

"I know." She wouldn't deny the truth. "Isn't it cool? They're great people when they aren't insisting their not heroes while they save lives, or being hypocritical and saying other people with powers are freaky," Shay answered, texting Malcolm to let him know she got home safe, omitting the fact that she almost got shot and met The Punisher. 

Malcolm texted her back within seconds, telling her goodnight, he loved her and that he hoped Matt didn't get her into any trouble. 

Shay sent back a thumbs up emoji because lying was not her strong suit. Going to her room, she plugged her phone in, cracking her knuckles nervously as she considered spilling the beans. She hated lying, especially to Malcolm. After all he told her about himself, about his past, it felt so wrong.

Hearing Frank grumbling about needing more ammo to Matt, she ventured back out, and watched as he peeked out the window for any sign of their enemies having tracked them down. The paranoia was justifiable after what they just went through less than an hour ago. 

Looking around, Shay found that Luke managed to nod off, Danny was still meditating, and Matt was trying to pull out the bullet himself with a knife from her kitchen, muttering about needing to get back out there. She looked to Frank again. He looked like a perfect addition to her steadily growing group of hero friends. 

"You stayin'?" She kept her voice down to keep from disturbing the others. "I don't have a guest room or anything, and Ma- _Daredevil_ is taking my bed because he earned it after getting shot, and those Heroes for Hire are sharing the pullout couch. I think if you ask nicely, the Devil will let you share with him."

Frank gave her a long stare, unbridled surprise in his eyes. Finally, he cracked a small grin. "Thanks, but...I-I, uh, I got more spots to hit up. G'night, ma'am."

"It's Shay. Call me Shay." She'd have to see if Claire knew this guy, too. It seemed Claire knew all heroes worth knowing. "And be careful out there, Castle." _Must be lonely fighting like you do. Poor guy._

For a brief moment, he looked shocked by her words. The expression was wiped away in a split second, and he glanced at the three quarters of The Defenders, lingering in the entrance. "It's Frank. You be careful here, Shay." He tilted his head at her before dipping out the door, looking like shadow brought to life as he stalked down the hall. 

Shay wished he had just asked for the help, the companionship he really needed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

She woke up sometime around 7:00AM, alone in her apartment and on her bed. She remembered falling asleep at the kitchen table while listening to the late night infomercials from the living room. Luke must've carried her into her room. 

Speaking of Luke, he and Danny both left her a note on her fridge, telling her Matt wasn't dead - yet - and they had to find where the drug had been moved now, and that her share of their early morning breakfast was waiting in the microwave. 

_Sweet guys. They're like the brothers I never wanted._

The timer went off for her blueberry pancakes just as Malcolm let himself into her apartment with his key, looking frazzled and pale. They both stared at each other for a long moment. Suddenly, Malcolm was right there, body pressed against hers, his well-toned arms enveloping her in a tight hold as he buried his face between her neck and shoulder. His breath came out in desperate gasps, just like a man who had been choked by fear and finally got the air he needed. 

Shay knew she was in trouble. It made her appetite vanish to know how her boyfriend was feeling. This was Malcolm's, "What the fuck? I thought you were dead!" hug. The last time he gave her this hug was when she went with Misty to help her hack into a confiscated computer for a case. She had managed to leave just before KnightWing Restorations got shot up, oblivious to the fright she gave him until he started blowing up her phone. 

He pulled back, cradling her face in his shaking hands. "I just saw Matt's face, Shay, and I came straight over! I had to make sure you were okay. Baby, what the hell happened last night?!"

She opened her mouth, about to come up with an elaborate lie that explained everything while also saying nothing about her pushing to stick around and see what the Devil of Hell's Kitchen did best. 

"And don't say all you did was go to the museum, explain the art to Matt and come home. You wouldn't be reheating pancakes if you went to bed at a reasonable hour. What'd you do, for real?" 

"...We did a surprise drug bust." She winced at how horrible that must sound. "It was a surprise for us and the dealers, really. I disabled the cameras for Matt, followed him to the basement and met The Punisher... There w-was a g-gunfight." 

Malcolm's jaw hung up for a second before his brow furrowed in outrage. He opened his mouth, ready to grill her for details. 

"Wait, wait, _wait!_ Babe, I can explain! I had two whole heroes protecting me, and Karen and I have been getting Krav Maga lessons with Trish. We're both pretty good. And - AND," she had to raise her voice so Malcolm's squawk of protest wouldn't completely cut her off, "The Punisher gave me a gun, just in case, so... I-I was safe enough."

"Safe enough? **Safe enough?!** " Malcolm started swearing in Haitian Creole. 

Shay refrained from reminding him that he worked with an alcoholic, bitter superhero who got into much more trouble than a private investigator should. He was constantly in danger because of it - it was how they met! Nonetheless, in the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn't help end their first fight any faster, only serve to make him throw out the fact that of all their friends, Matt was an absolute glutton for punishment and sought out trouble when he shouldn't.

For example, last night. 

Although she hated to admit it, Shay was rational enough to know he was totally justified for being upset with her hiding this from him. Couldn't fault his concern. Not this time. She silently waited for him to let it all out. They both knew it wouldn't be the last time something like this would happen. 

When he stopped, she stepped away from him, opened the microwave and got another fork and two knives. She pulled Malcolm to the small kitchen table, gently pushing him into a chair and sat in his lap. Malcolm poured maple syrup all over the pancakes, practically drowning them, and gave Shay the first bite from his fork. 

Knowing she was forgiven, her appetite came back. 

Together, they ate the pancakes in silence, allowing the quiet to ease the tension away.

"Sorry, Malcolm," Shay whispered, giving him a kiss that was sticky albeit delicious. "Next time, I'll invite you to the museum shootout with us. We can take some fire selfies in front of the trashed exhibits."

He cracked a grin, kissing her again before she could get that smug look of victory on her face. "That's all I ask, Shay. It's all I ask." He paused for a beat. "Whoa, hold up... Earlier, did you say you met The Punisher? Was he as cool as I think?"

"He had a freaking skull spray painted on his vest, and two whole giant rifles! _Two!_ "


	5. Chapter 5

Everyone had their demons they fought with. Sometimes, the demon was small, like a gremlin, and it was easier to fight. Perhaps it was an estranged relationship with someone you didn't quite need around to begin with. 

Then, there were the bigger demons. So daunting and overshadowing all positive aspects of you life that you couldn't ignore them. 

Abuse, insecurities, trauma, addiction... These demons were absolute monsters that would rip you apart and swallowed you up when you let your guard down and stopped looking over your shoulder. 

Shay knew that there was always a chance that Malcolm's demon would come crawling into their life together. She even knew her own demon, her stubborn need to act like her problems didn't exist, could hurt this beautiful thing they created. 

Never had she considered that it wouldn't be a demon that would push their relationship in a different direction, but instead the actions of vile humans.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a long spring. While nature buzzed with life and people looked forward to summer, The protectors of New York were on edge. With warm weather came a spike in crime rates. 

Evidence of this being nothing but the truth came in Shayla being kidnapped by one of the various mob groups in the city.

The blindfold felt too tight, scratching uncomfortably against her eyelids as her eyes darted around to see, in vain, the men hovering around her. It was cold in this abandoned warehouse, and her outfit of shorts and one of Malcolm's t-shirts didn't do much in the way of warming her up. 

"Tell us who you work for and where they're at, and we'll let you leave without harming a hair on your head," one of the men said. 

Shay couldn't pick up where the accent was, but years of watching spy movies in her free time had conditioned her to think of it as menacing in this situation. She whimpered, hoping they wouldn't hurt her. She wasn't trained to withstand torture, not at all. 

Shit, what if they did torture her? 

_Oh, no._

"I don't think you heard me. Maybe I haven't been speaking clearly. "

The force of the backhand to her cheek would have knocked her onto the floor if she hadn't been tied down to this chair that was nailed to the floor. Her neck ached at the way her head whipped to the side, and warm, salty tears began to soak the blindfold. 

Shay tried her best to swallow down her sobs. She had friends who needed her to be strong for them so they could be strong for the city. She couldn't talk. She couldn't betray the trust they put in her by letting her into their circle, into their homes, because they felt she was worthy of it. She was someone they respected and cared for - she couldn't make them regret it. 

_Please, come soon._ She didn't know how long she'd be able to handle this if the pain only got worse from here. 

"Has that cleared your ears?" The man sounded as if he was smiling. She hated him with every fiber of her being. She hoped he burned in Hell, which was where he undoubtedly belonged for eternity. "Where do your employers operate?"

Shay sniffled, keeping otherwise silent. 

Another backhand made her taste copper in her mouth. She swallowed it, reciting Maya Angelou poems in her head. 

_Shadows on the wall_  
_Noises down the hall_  
_Life doesn't frighten me at all_

Another question. Two hits this time, whipping her head one way and then another. 

_Bad dogs barking loud_  
_Big ghost in a cloud_  
_That doesn't frighten me at all_

She was bleeding from her nose now. She could feel it trail to her mouth, strengthening the taste of copper as she cried out when the next hit was aimed at her abdomen. 

_Mean old Mother Goose_  
_Lions on the loose_  
_They don't frighten me at all_

Something pinched at her neck. The blindfold was ripped off. Her tears saved her from the terrible sight of cold eyes boring into hers. She didn't want to see his face. She didn't want to remember him. She didn't want to remember this. 

_Dragons breathing fl-_

Darkness. Sweet, merciful darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Luke lifted a man up until he was several feet from the ground. Breaking into the rundown apartment and waiting for him to show up was too easy. That just pissed him off _more._ These kidnappers were sloppy, so clearly they wanted them to know who took Shay. The ignorant arrogance was insulting. 

"I think you were asked a question," he sneered, tired of this old song and dance. 

"I don't fuckin' know nothin'!" 

Luke looked back at Jessica, who was holding back Malcolm. He sort of wished Jess would let go. Malcolm deserved to wail on somebody. With the very thought of Claire being kidnapped, Luke was ready to take on all the ninjas, gangsters and shady policemen of the world.

If Malcolm allowed himself to be hard enough, he would have asked Jessica to let him go, and Jessica would have. But, nobody had control and determination to be good like a sober, pissed off Malcolm. 

"I'm sorry, but that sounded like you asked to be through out the window," Jessica said, sounding pleased by the idea of watching this blemish on the city go soaring and crashing into the pavement several stories below. "Luke, you think he can fly?"

"The world's seen some special folks these past few years," Luke shifted his eyes back at the man struggling even harder to get out of his unbreakable grip. He wouldn't really throw him, but he didn't know that. "It would either be a day of discovery for him, or fun for us to watch."

"Malcolm?"

"Toss him."

"Sure thing." Luke slammed the window open with one hand, the glass shattering. 

"Wait! WAIT! IT'S THE O'FALLONS! THEY TOOK THE BITCH! SHE'S BY THE DOCKS! DON'T FUCKIN' TOSS ME, MAN! I CAN'T FLY, I'M NOT PETER _FUCKIN'_ PAN!" 

Luke dropped him. "By the docks? Shady and cliché. Why do all criminals have to be so dramatic? Can't ever just have a normal hangout spot..." He shook his head, walking out of the apartment to go see if Danny was okay from his post outside the building. 

Jess was texting the rest of the team, hand slipping from around Malcolm's arm. She looked up just in time to watch as Malcolm rushed over to the goon on the floor and stomp on his leg, effectively stopping him from reaching for a gun taped behind the bookcase he fell by. 

The man howled in pain, back arching off the floor as he tried to hold onto the broken limb, only succeeding in making the pain worse. 

"Don't," was all Malcolm said to him, taking the gun in hand. "You're lucky you aren't the one with my girl, or I'd be pulling this trigger." 

With smirk of pride, Jessica sidled up to Malcolm, looming over the crying man on the floor. "Yeah, he's fuckin' batshit, you dick," she piped up, wanting to instill as much fear in this pathetic excuse of a man as possible. "He'd cut off your tiny balls, an' staple 'em to your weak ass chin!"

Malcolm glanced over at Jessica, eyes wide. "What the hell?" he mouthed to her, horrified at the gruesome thought. No matter how much these assholes deserved it, Malcolm knew he wasn't sadistic enough for that behavior.

Jess shrugged, heading for the door. Guy needs to be scared straight. "Let's get going. We've got a computer nerd to get outta deep shit."

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Shay came to with a start, the sound of gunfire alerting her to a change in the building. Her eyes searched for signs of the people from earlier. Even through the blurriness of her vision and the unexpected sudden darkness of the room, she could tell she was alone. Good. 

If Shay knew anything, she knew the sounds of her friends fighting villains in the distance as she freaked the fuck out on her own. It was becoming a common thing now. 

_Okay, what do you know? What do you know, Shay?_

She closed her eyes again and combed through memories of the things she picked up while with The Defenders, KnightWing, and Frank. All of it was meant to protect her from hits for long enough to spot an opening and run away. Nothing about wiggling out of rope that had you bound to a chair. 

She sighed. "Fuck." Shayla opened her eyes. She was a little annoyed to find that her vision was still blurry, darkness creeping around the edges. _What the - ?_

Several men, dressed in dark clothing crashed through the door, slamming it behind them. The sound made Shay's ears ring, a headache settling at her temples. 

They huffed, looking nervously at each other and shooting glares her way. Some were covered in what she assumed was plaster, some were dripping water. All were cut up and bruised. 

It gave Shayla only a moment of satisfaction before a gun was pointed at her, and the rest pointed at the door. 

She ignored the gun, her skin beginning to crawl. _I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to get out. Out, out, out, OUT!_ She started to violently rock, hoping the rope would magically give for her so she could find the nearest exit and dip. She still didn't find getting shot to be on her to-do list. 

After the seventeenth rock, Shay felt as if the rope tightened, for just a second, before it fell away. She froze, wondering if this was her mind trying to cope, or if she was truly free. 

A hand dropped to her shoulder. She jumped, screaming bloody murder. 

"Whoa, relax, kid!" Frank said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I came in a second ago and was gonna say something, but you looked really focused on giving yourself whiplash."

As Shay tried to will her heart to get out of her throat and back where it belonged, Matt skid into the room, dressed in full Daredevil gear. Shay briefly thought she'd never get over how stupid yet creepy he looked. It really depended on how good the lighting was. The darker the better. 

"We've got to go, guys. _Now!_ "

Frank cut through Shay's binds, and hauled her to her feet. "C'mon. Malcolm's been tearing through the city for you." He led her into a jog down through the labyrinthine, dark halls, pulling her back when he needed to shoot. 

Hearing Malcolm's name made fresh tears come to her eyes. "H-How is he?"

Frank couldn't meet her eyes. 

"Frank?"

Matt rushed further ahead of them, avoiding the conversation too. 

"Damn it." Shay stumbled over a dead body, managing to catch herself on a wall. She could hardly see in this damn place. On top of that, her wrists were on fire. It hurt to push herself from the wall, propelling her body back into a jog again. "Well, can you at least tell me whose here?"

Frank pushed Shay onto the floor before they could get very far, bullets cutting through the air with deafening pops. Several bodies thumped to the floor, last breaths sounding like gurgles as blood filled lungs. 

Checking on her over his shoulder, Frank gave Shay an apologetic look as he noticed he had pushed her directly onto a dead body. 

"Sorry," he rasped, helping her up. He didn't make a move to go forward, so Shay figured he needed a breather. Or he noticed she definitely needed one. "Uh, people that came for you, you wanted to know, right?"

She nodded, bending to wipe at her face with the hem of her shirt. Her hands were shaking about as much as her legs. "Yeah."

"Jones, Red, Cage, Karate Kid and your man were the first ones on the scene, 'course, and some more people showed up after I came - ya gotta lot of friends." 

She smoothed her bloodstained shirt down, not seeming to register what he was saying to her. 

Frank checked the magazine of his firearm, not because he was worried about running out of ammo, but because he didn't know what to say to make Shay stop looking like her world was falling apart. He thought telling her all her friends were here would have made her feel safe and ground her in the reality of the situation. 

"They needed someone to come getcha while they put down the bastards that nabbed you." 

Shay nodded, eyes trained on the wall in front of her. It was splattered with blood, wet enough to still be dripping. She knew that because she felt it when Frank helped her up, but she couldn't see it. It was just a few feet away. Was her sight only getting worse? 

Her breathing got shallow. Something was wrong, very wrong. 

"Ya gotta stick with me here, Shay. Can't go into shock just yet." He gently grabbed her arm. "C'mon."

Shay stumbled along behind him, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand and trusting Frank to get her to safety. She was forced to a sudden stop, cold air blowing against her skin. They were outside. 

A distressed cry came from her lips as she looked around. " _Whoa!_ Oh, shit!" 

Frank looked back at Shay, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. He didn't have to. Her eyes, normally dark brown, were glowing. Like rays of sunshine through a glass of brandy. "...If I didn't put those bastards down, Malcolm would've," he muttered, knowing how being worried sick for the people you loved made you do things you normally wouldn't.

As if he could be materialized by name, Malcolm pulled up in Frank's van, hopping out and running to Shay. "Babe! Are you - Oh, god, that's a lot of blood! Did they put their damn hands on you? I'm gonna... Y-Your eyes..."

"What's wrong with the sky?!" Shayla screamed. "What are those lights? What the hell is going on?!" Her voice cracked on the last word, as she looked between the two men. She flinched as she took notice of a strand of light coming from the sky and connecting to their pockets. _What is that?_

__

Malcolm wrapped his arms around her, trying to give her comfort. It surprised him how feverish her skin felt was on this chilly night. He looked at Frank, panicked. "Go get Claire! She's still with Luke and Jessica, trying to get all the important medical files on this place. _Go!_ "

__

Frank gave a curt nod before turning on his heel and rushing back inside. The cops would show up here soon. The trail The Defenders left turning over the city for Shay was bound to point them here. If something lethal was in Shay's system, making the poor woman see things that weren't there, Claire was needed ASAP. 

__

"Malcolm," Shay rasped, "I feel sick..." Her legs gave out, falling limp in his arms, glowing eyes falling closed. 

__

From inside the building, gunshots popped off. Malcolm flinched, eyes shutting for a second as he tried to calm himself for Shay's sake. When he opened them, he saw Misty rushing out of the building with Claire.

__

"Get in the van!" the detective commanded, snapping him into action. "C'mon, move it, guys! Hurry up!"

__

He helped Claire carry Shay into the van as the others started to show up with crates of files. Claire checked Shay's vitals as best as she could as The Defenders crowded in the back with them, and Frank hopped in the driver seat with Misty directing him to the nearest hospital. 

__

Malcolm held Shay's hand the whole way, praying quietly to the God he hoped still listened after all the wrong he was forced to do. 

__

~*~*~*~*~*~

__

"So, she's..." Malcolm could hardly bring himself to say the words. Instead, he stared down at the tiles of the hospital floor. 

__

Claire, with dark circles under her eyes, let out a heavy sigh. "Team Human just got a little smaller," she tried to joke. 

__

Malcolm forced a smile onto his face. It must have looked like a grimace by the way Claire frowned back. He stopped. "Thanks, Claire. For everything." 

__

Even though she probably broke multiple hospital regulations and rules by making some story to get Shay looked over, Claire shrugged like it was nothing. "She's my friend. I'd do it for any of you."

__

He knew she meant it. Claire was just generous like that. So was he, but he did more social work and therapeutic talks than lifesaving surgeries. "Still, _thank you._ "

__

"No problem. I'm going to get coffee." She looked around at the little squared waiting room that was somewhat empty on this Tuesday morning at 4:00AM. None of the people there looked like their money was boring, with their tattered, sweaty and bloody clothes, beat up faces and busted knuckles. "Do any of you guys want anything?" 

__

Danny was asleep with his head on Luke's right shoulder as the bulletproof man looked up from a home decor magazine. He was considering the beautiful dining room set that would look perfect in the new place he and Claire were moving into soon. She would like it. It was big enough for their whole mismatched family to sit around, and sturdy enough for their enthusiastic lovemaking. " _Ahem._ I'm good, Claire." 

__

To Luke's left, Misty and Colleen were corroborating with Frank, who hid his face under a ball cap and behind a copy of the Daily Bugle. Frank looked enamored with both women, clearly impressed with knowledge of the business they co-owned and backgrounds in combat. All three were wrapped up in the details of their case that had gotten them mixed up with The Defenders, and didn't even hear Claire's question. 

__

Matt, who had gone home to switch to civilian clothes, stopped talking on his phone to a concerned Foggy. "Yeah, a coffee would be amazing right now, Claire. Thank you so much." 

__

He pressed the phone to his ear again, listening for a moment. "No, Foggy, you don't need to tell Karen about this - _or_ Trish! It's late...or early depending on how you look at it... Shay's fine, we're all fine... Yes, she'll be at the next dinner... I-I totally can promise on her behalf!" 

__

Matt huffed indignantly, irritated that he wasn't qualified by Foggy's standards to guess her future endeavors. 

__

Jessica lifted her head from Matt's shoulder, looking especially miserable under the fluorescent lights with her busted lip and the knot on her forehead. "Unless you plan on spiking my drink with something a little stronger, no thanks." She put her head back down, closing her eyes. "Longest fucking night with a bullshit mob..."

__

Claire sighed again. They all needed a nap, real food and some time to come to grips with what they were clearly choosing to ignore. It wasn't like she was dead, she was just -

__

"Can I go see her?" Malcolm asked, pulling Claire from her thoughts. 

__

She nodded, waving over another nurse milling about to show him to her room, and then went to get herself and Matt their coffee. The whole walk to the cafeteria, Claire couldn't help but think of how lucky they got. It wasn't ninjas that got her, just a mob. Still, a mob was a mob, and they did a number on her before putting her to sleep.

__

Really, in hindsight, it answered a lot of questions now that they knew what happened to her. It explained the suddenly disabled security system that got them inside, the lights blowing not long before Frank found her, and why she thought something was wrong with the sky. 

__

Shayla Welch was officially a mutant. Created by stress, as most mutants were, her X-gene surfaced while she was unconscious. The surge of power flowing from her blew all tech in the building where she was held, allowing for the heroes to swoop in and save her. 

__

Exhausted and unable to cope with what she saw, Shay fell back into her unconscious state, leaving Claire to fret over her friend's invisible ailment in the back of The Punisher's van. 

__

"Just when I thought I had one more friend without a special power to talk shit with," Claire grumbled, dumping an unhealthy amount sugar in her cup. "What's next, universe? A war between all the big time heroes? Vampires being real?"

__


	6. Chapter 6

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "There's no need to gloat, babe."

Turning slowly to face him, Shay rolled her eyes, a dark brown again, right back. It had been a week since her kidnapping, and while she was still a bit bruised and sore, she seemed to be handling things much better with the knowledge of her powers. Hence, the reason as to why he'd caught her trying to practice in the middle of the night. 

"Yes, yes there is. This is the _best,_ Malcolm. I can see all of the information I need! Like, I was good before, but now, I could probably make Tony Stark cry!" She shimmied her shoulders, making him aware of the fact that she was once again clad in a shirt of his as the fabric shifted up on her thighs. 

"Bragging about your superpowers isn't as attractive as you may think," he quipped, finally looking away from her crossed legs. 

"Well, let me be butt-ugly! This is exciting!" Her eyes began to glow and she waved her hand in front of her laptop. "Look! I've got access to your school files! Damn, someone is a genius..." She beamed at him, pride in her glowing brandy eyes. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

"You said it was because you how thick I was." Malcolm joined her on her couch. He took one of her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over her palm. "Does it hurt?"

She stopped flicking through what looked like her own old files from high school. "...If I don't take a minute every once in a while, I get a headache."

He opened his mouth, to scold or fuss, but Shay shook her head. 

"I'm being careful, Malcolm. Promise. I just... I need this."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to get better at this. See if I can use it everyday for important things." She bit her lip, picking imaginary lint off her sleeve. "What if I get snatched up a-"

"I would never - "

"I know you didn't let it h-"

"Then, why - "

"Because even if you don't let it, it could st-"

" _No!_ "

" _Maybe!_ " 

They were both breathing hard now, frustrated and reliving the emotions of last week. The lamp on the table behind Shay flickered. She looked at it from the corner of her eye. With a small tilt of her head, it stabilized. She lifted her hand, fingers seeming to caress the air above the cord that connected it to the wall. 

Malcolm knew she must have been touching the electric currents she could see in the air. He couldn't see them, of course, but it was interesting to watch her as she was in the zone. Every other time he'd tried to watch her, she got embarrassed and mumbled about not being in enough control to show him. She was comfortable now. 

The bulb slowly dimmed as Shay manipulated it. She looked back at Malcolm. "It's easier to work the laptop, and my phone. I see the code, and it's all familiar." 

He nodded, understanding. _Like riding a bicycle that's now operated by your mind._

"The currents in here are more difficult to figure out," Shay continued on. "Currents are twisting and turning faster than I can handle. I...I cut off the, uh, fridge when trying to change the channel yesterday. That's why the milk went bad, not 'cause I accidentally left the door open."

Malcolm couldn't help himself. He began to laugh. 

"Shut up."

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Shay let out a tiny gasp, her hand falling onto his bare thigh, rubbing slow circles as she traveled towards his boxers."Just be careful, okay? We've got a bulletproof man, a strong lady, a determined blind man, and - "

"The Immortal Iron Fist," they chorused together with identical scoffs. 

"Exactly. All of them are lost causes when it comes to inserting themselves in dangerous situations." Malcolm pressed another kiss to her forehead. He was losing track of when he was going with this. "Uh, except Luke, maybe. Danger finds Luke." 

Shay moaned as one of his hands slipped under the shirt she'd stolen from him. "So, no trying to shut down Times Square?"

"Not yet." He put his focus on her neck, sucking on the soft flesh there. "Not now."

"Gotcha." Shay flicked her hand over towards her laptop and Spotify came up. A playlist she named her _Bangers 2 Bang 2_ began to play Teddy Pendergrass' _Turn off the Lights._

~*~*~*~*~*~

Karen stared up at Shay from her seat in her office chair, her eyes wide with wonder. "I could kiss you right now!" She hopped out of her seat, hugging the shorter woman. 

"Oh, uh, it wasn't that special, Karen!" Shay said as she could actually feel herself being lifted onto her tiptoes. Was this how Malcolm always felt when working with people? It was so different from receiving thank you calls and emails. 

"You recovered everything!"

Shay didn't know how to say, " _All I had to do was go to your backup file that you dutifully uploaded all important things to, destroy the virus from all your other files it was trying to eat at, and then restore your computer to the carefully organized way it was._ " It was weird trying explain how she could see all of the information she needed just by looking with her new sight, so she just didn't. 

Instead, Shay shrugged. "It's no big deal."

Karen didn't believe her oversimplification for a second. If Shay hadn't shown up looking to hang out, Karen would've been spending the night trying and failing to fix her computer on her own. She was never from someone she didn't know again, not even if they had an intriguing subject line. 

"Let me just grab my jacket, and we can go out for drinks, okay? My treat!"

Shay shook her head with a smile. "Free drinks are the best drinks."

"Free anything is the best."

"You get me on a spiritual level, Karen."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Trish grinned at Shay from across the table, microphone in front of her. "Welcolm, my loyal listeners to _Trish Talk._ With me today is a friend of mine who has been dubbed X-Sight by fans all over the city. Tell me, how do you feel about that name?"

Shay rolled her eyes, wondering why she did these things for her friends. Yeah, so people were curious about her. So what? She didn't want to be in the public eye. It was weird having people she didn't know all up in her face every time she left the house. "Makes me miss being called JamJuggernaut89 back when I first got into computers." 

Trish laughed, shooting Shay an amused look. She knew Shay only agreed to this because she trusted Trish to keep her public image from being twisted and tainted. It felt good knowing Shay trusted her with this. "Tell me, after that situation in the Queens involving you blowing the whistle on the unlawful failing of several students of color, what's your goal going forward?"

"Good question, Trish. You see, I want everyone who plans to bury innocent people beneath falsified documents and baseless accusations to know they better get ready for metal bracelets and bunk beds..." 

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Sl-Slow down, Shay, I have no idea what you're saying!" Colleen groaned into the phone. 

Misty slapped her hand against the old TV. " _Piece of crap!_ Hey, Col, we should just get another. I don't think we'll be getting these wires sorted out any time - "

Shay's face suddenly appeared on the screen, making both women jump. She looked as if she was Face-Timing them with the way one of her arms was stretched out of frame. "Just follow my instructions, and you'll be watching all the channels you want during break time!"

"How did you do that?!" Misty asked, poking the screen as if she'd be able to feel Shay's cheek. 

"The only thing you managed to plug in was the TV itself. I just got back from helping Foggy and Matt set up a security system they managed to...acquire from one of the Devil's outings. Y'all aren't too far from them, so I felt around for your security system, found your dinosaur of a TV, and got access."

"Wow," Colleen whispered. "So, you can do security cameras too?"

Shayla smiled. "If it can be found in the electronics aisle, I've got access to it."

"Come over here and check out our camera out back. The guy who installed it didn't do it right. We'll pay you in donuts and a movie on Netflix after we get this thing running," Misty said, going over to her desk and picking up a chocolate glazed donut, holding out for Shay to see. 

The image on the TV screen started to shake, as if Shay was running. "Unlock the door, I'll be there in less than ten minutes!" The screen went blank. 

Colleen snorted. "Anything for food and entertainment with that woman."

"She's got her priorities straight."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank tilted his head to the side, trying in vain to comprehend what she was doing. It looked about as complicated as he knew he had to have been to learn, but with these new powers of hers, Shay didn't need to do more than blink to get her results. 

"Done."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Every police station from here to Japan will know this guy's face. Those children will get justice, and their families will have closure."

"Thanks."

"Happy to do my part." _Devastated to know people like this exist and can evade the authorities._ "I'm not above doing something illegal to destroy the real evil."

"Don't let Red hear you say that."

"Yeah, Matt would be all over my ass about this."

"...Matt?"

**"FUCK!"**

~*~*~*~*~*~

Shay was close at Jessica's heels, looking over her shoulder at the dark hall behind them. From upstairs, the muffled, eerie sound of Delilah by Tom Jones blared. "M-M-Maybe this was a bad idea, Jess."

_My, my, my Delilah_  
_Why, why, why, Delilah?_

"This pig keeps stalking his ex-wife, going through her things and leaving gross dead animals on her fucking front porch. Don't you think he deserves this?"

_I can see that girl was no good for me_  
_But, I was lost like a slave that no man could free_

"Yeah, but we're definitely not supposed to be breaking into his fucking house!" Shayla whispered although she continued to follow the investigator through the living room, keeping her steps quiet. 

"An eye for an eye!" 

"You're too tipsy for this."

"You're too tipsy for this," Jessica mocked in a high voice, peering into the study on the first level. "He got any incriminating shit in there?"

Shay blinked. "Yes." The screen lit up a second latere and Jess groaned at the bright light. "He's got offshore accounts, racy messages sent to women who work for him, and pictures of his wife that he took while stalking her... Ugh, he's disgusting!" 

_She stood there laughing_  
_I felt the knife in my hand_  
_And she laughed no more_

The duo stepped inside, Jessica going straight for the now unlocked computer, sending the evidence to herself, while Shay took a look at the art on the walls. She flicked on a lamp, controlling the brightness with her hand. 

"Rock, Paper, Scissors for keeping lookout sound okay?"

Shay let out a short laugh. "No need. I don't want to even think about the video collage he's putting together of her upstairs as we speak." Shay turned to face the door, turning the light back off and concentrating on making the TV in the upstairs bedroom go fuzzy. 

They both smirked as they heard someone let out a loud curse above the sound of tragic "love" songs followed by heavy footfalls. 

Jessica was quick, knowing that while Shayla distracted their target, she was also grabbing all pictures taken without the wife's consent and sending them back to Alias Investigations then deleting them of his laptop. 

They were in and out with no problems. The next day, the ex-husband was arrested for violating his restraining order thanks to the time stamps on the videos. Another bad guy off the streets, and another victory for Alias Investigations.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Who needs to call the cable man to re-install their stuff when we've got X-Sight here?" Luke asked, sitting on the floor beside Shay in case she needed him to do some heavy lifting. "You should get Xfinity to endorse you."

"Shut up, Luke." Shay pulled an extension cord out of her bag. She plugged it into the wall before connecting their landline to it, balancing the phone on a side table at Luke's direction. "I like your house, you guys. Super roomy. Great kitchen, too. Your mom is going to love coming over for dinner tonight, Claire!"

Claire danced into the living room to the speakers in the master bedroom playing a love song Shay couldn't place. "Staying for dinner, too?" she asked with a sly grin. 

"Uh, nooooo...? I told you Malcolm is making a big dinner for us tonight, didn't I? I told both of you that, right, Luke?"

"Yeah..." Luke have Claire a weird look. "Too many back-to-back shifts, baby. Take a nap. I'll finish unpacking."

Claire just continued to grin, dancing back out of the room. Luke and Shay shared a confused look, unaware of Malcolm having sent a picture of a ring box to everyone in his contacts except Shay. 

Luke nearly dropped a bookcase on himself when he checked his phone for the time and saw the message. He shoved his phone back in his pocket, unable to help himself as he kept smiling at an oblivious Shay. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Will you marry me?"

With all of the information she could see, Shay hadn't expected this. Malcolm knelt in front of her, dressed in a tailored suit - courtesy of an excited Foggy Nelson who also offered to buy Malcolm's tux if things went well.

"Oh, my... Are you sure?" Shay couldn't stop her hands from reach out to grasp Malcolm's shoulders. She needed to feel that he was real, that this was real. 

Malcolm smiled up at her. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." 

~*~*~*~*~*~

As months went by, Shay got better at controlling her powers. She was working for her friends, gathering information they couldn't manage to get access to. She was an official part of the team that wouldn't verbally confirm they were a team, and it was glorious. 

While the city no longer had the likes of the Avengers protecting it, that didn't mean it was at a total loss. The Defenders quickly got in connection with other heroes. The Fantastic Four, the X-Men, Spider-Man, Inhumans, and more helped them take on threats bigger than they could handle.

For once, Shay knew what it was like to not just support people who fought for those that needed them. She was a fighter. And with Malcolm, a man who would do anything to protect innocent lives, she felt like there was nowhere she'd rather be than at his side, protecting him and the rest of their eclectic group. 

Sometimes, she wondered how she got where she was now compared to a and a half ago. She'd been a simple artist, bored and secure with that. Now, she wouldn't trade the moment where Malcolm came falling through her window for anything. The jumble of adventure, companionship, and love was priceless. 

She would never be bored again.


End file.
